


The Romance of Travelling

by bronzemist



Series: Peapod McHanzo Week 2018 [4]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, Peapod McHanzo Week, Road Trips, Trains, of a sort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-05
Updated: 2018-01-05
Packaged: 2019-02-28 14:45:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13273674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bronzemist/pseuds/bronzemist
Summary: for Day 4 ofaughtpunkandwyntera's peapod Mchanzo week.There's something romantic about travelling by train... which makes it perfect for Joel Morricone and his husband Akira.





	The Romance of Travelling

**Author's Note:**

> dedicated to [helraisingstar](http://helraisingstar.tumblr.com/)
> 
> in which i play fast and loose with the prompt "road trip"
> 
> i did an unreasonable amount of research for a story this short lol
> 
> this one contains an homage to the Magnificent Seven reboot, see if you can spot it

"No problem, bossman," Jesse says cheerfully, "Hanzo and I can make our own way back home."

"Thank you, McCree," Winston's voice is full of gratitude. "Do you need me to send any funds? You still have access to your identities from last month's mission, right?"

"No and yes," Jesse replies, "don't you worry about it, Joel and Akira Morricone have plenty of cash to burn."

"Alright. Let us know if you run into any trouble at all."

"Will do, boss." With that, Jesse ends the call and turns his attention to Hanzo. They are sitting together at a little table outside a restaurant in Berlin, the remains of a nice lunch spread out in front of them. "You catch all that, darlin'?"

"Yes, Joel, I did," says Hanzo, already sliding into the character of Akira Morricone, geometry professor happily married to successful author Joel Morricone.

"Good, good, now, when's our flight, sugarplum?" Jesse smooths out his voice, adopting Morricone's clear New England accent.

Hanzo makes a show of checking his watch.

"Oh, no, I must have lost track of time," he says, looking up at Jesse with an upset expression. "We've just missed it."

"What a shame," Jesse says, "looks like we'll have to spend another day enjoying this fine city." He gives Hanzo an exaggerated wink; the archer lets out a relieved laugh and smiles adoringly at him.

The first time Jesse and Hanzo had been asked to go undercover as Joel and Akira, Jesse had been expecting Hanzo to protest. It had been only a few months into the archer's stay with Overwatch; well before he and Jesse could be considered friends. Much to his surprise, however, Hanzo had readily agreed to the assignment, and then proceeded to spend a week being the most adoring, affectionate husband Jesse'd ever had.

After getting over his shock, Jesse had played right along: using his most outrageous pet names, constantly showering Akira in gifts, flirting brazenly with him over dinners and during long walks past their target.

Given the success of that first mission, it was hardly surprising that they had since been asked to reprise the roles several times: a book tour in King's Row, celebrating their anniversary in Ilios, holidaying in Lijiang – each time just as successful as before. As time passed and Jesse and Hanzo became good friends, and even better mission partners, the act became even more fine-tuned. By now, Joel Morricone was like a well-worn coat that Jesse could simply slide on and off as he pleased.

However, it had become harder in the past few months. Ever since Jesse had realized he'd gone and fallen for Hanzo, playing the role of Joel had become almost painful. It hurt, watching Hanzo look at him with adoration in those gorgeous eyes, listening to him say 'dearest' and 'love' as he leaned into Jesse's chest, and knowing that it was all pretend. An act, just Hanzo playing a role.

Still, Jesse let none of that turmoil show on his face. He paid for their meal and led the way out of the restaurant, hailing a hovertaxi to take them back to the hotel they'd spent the night in.

"I think our best option's to take the hovertrain," Jesse says once they've reached the privacy of their room. "They won't bother checking ID too carefully so long as we've got the right tickets."

"It will take longer. And it is expensive." Hanzo replies, gathering what little belongings they have with them into a duffle bag.

"It's only a few days, darlin'." Says Jesse, giving Hanzo his most charming grin. "And only the best for my lovely husband."

Hanzo's expression is unimpressed, but there is a glint of amusement in his eyes. "In that case, I will expect to be travelling first class."

"Your wish is my command, sugar."

 

After a brief stop to pick up some clothes more suited to the Morricones, Jesse and Hanzo arrive at Berlin's main hypertrain station. It's bustling with people, and they wait for nearly half an hour before finally speaking to a ticket agent.

The soft-voiced omnic is polite, giving their IDs only cursory glances before turning to the more important business of selling them tickets.

"You're in luck," she informs them, "we have a train leaving directly for Malaga in four hours."

"Excellent," says Jesse. "A sleeper train, I presume?"

"Of course." The ticket agent taps a button; the holoscreen in front of them flashes, presenting an assortment of ticket options. "There is Sleeper, Sleeper Plus, Prestige..."

"I believe two Prestige tickets are in order," Jesse says, smiling politely to make up for interrupting her. "Nothing less for my husband." He hands over Joel Morricone's gold card.

"Wonderful," the agent says, swiping the card in a well-practised motion. She efficiently prints out their tickets and hands them over. "Enjoy your trip."

"Thank you," says Jesse, quickly moving out of the way of the next person in line. "There you go, honey, it all worked out."

"Yes, I suppose it did," Hanzo sighs, leaning into the arm Jesse wraps around his waist. His hair ribbon brushes against Jesse's cheek, but he can't bring himself to move away.

It should take a little over a day to reach Malaga, provided there are no delays. One day in close proximity with the man he's in love with. Jesse can do this.

 

Jesse cannot do this.

The private cabin is incredibly luxurious for a train car. An L-shaped leather couch takes up most of the space, and a large window looks out over the passing German countryside. There is a small bar fridge in the wall, and they even have a private washroom complete with shower. It isn't exactly spacious, but compared to the last time Jesse travelled by hypertrain, it still feels a bit unreal.

But none of this is a problem. No, the source of Jesse's dilemma is a beautiful Japanese archer who has fallen asleep on the couch, and who's head is now resting in his lap.

He hadn't even realized Hanzo had fallen asleep at first. It had been less than two hours since the train left Berlin; they'd been sitting in silence, both focused on their tablets, when he'd suddenly slumped over and landed in Jesse's lap.

Now Jesse is sitting with his back straighter than it's possibly ever been, paralysed with indecision. He feels a bit like he did that night a few weeks ago in Dorado, when they'd shared a bed. Except something about this is worse, because he's wide awake and trying very hard not to think about exactly how close Hanzo's head is to certain sensitive parts of his anatomy.

There is a quiet knock on the door, and a stewardess pokes her head. Her eyebrows shoot up when she sees the position they're in.

"Sorry, he's exhausted." Says Jesse quietly.

"I can come back later?" She offers, voice a whisper, but he shakes his head.

"No, it's alright. What is it?"

"I'm just by to ask if you wanted anything to drink, sir." She says.

Jesse orders a bottle of whiskey for himself and sake for Hanzo. The stewardess slides the door shut with a parting smile.

"Akira." Jesse says quietly, nudging Hanzo with his shoulder. The other man simply sighs and moves slightly in his sleep. "Akira," louder this time. Hanzo huffs and stubbornly refuses to awaken.

Jesse sighs and lifts him up bodily, clapping him on the shoulder. "Hanzo!"

It's enough to rouse him; he stirs and blinks owlishly at Jesse.

"What?"

"We've got drinks coming soon." He tells him.

"Oh, thank you." Hanzo shifts and rubs his eyes roughly. "Was I asleep for long?"

"Not long at all." Jesse assures him.

The stewardess returns, presenting them with their drinks and directing them to where the glasses and ice are stored in the cabin.

"Thank you, miss." Says Jesse with a polite smile.

"Will you be eating in the dining car tonight, sirs?"

Jesse glances at Hanzo, who nods.

"Yes, we will." He says. She nods, taking their reservation, and then leaves them alone once more.

"Dining car, buttercup?"

Hanzo stands, retrieving two glasses, one with ice. "Joel and Akira enjoy showing off their relationship, do they not?"

Jesse accepts the whiskey with an appreciative nod. "That they do, sugar lamb." He revels in the burn as it goes down. It's not the best he's ever had, but it does the job of relaxing some of the tension he's still carrying.

 

The dining car is just as opulent as their cabin. It's quite full when they arrive, occupied mostly by older couples. Jesse and Hanzo are two of the youngest people present outside of the serving staff, an unusual state of affairs for two men in their late thirties.

Jesse pulls out Hanzo's chair with a dramatic flourish; two older women sitting at a neighbouring table coo at the sight. Hanzo sits, blushing.

Their waiter is a friendly omnic who brings them their requested waters in short order before leaving them to look over the menus.

"What do you think, dear?" Hanzo asks after a few minutes.

"The prime rib sounds quite appealing." Jesse says.

Hanzo makes a considering noise. "It does look nice... but I think I will have the seared salmon."

"You know I'll always share with you, angel." Jesse croons, winking at him. Hanzo blushes and ducks his head behind his menu. Jesse thinks he hears the women next to them coo again.

"Have we made our decision?" Their waiter suddenly materializes beside them.

"Yes, I believe we have." Jesse says, ordering the prime rib meal. Hanzo orders as well, and the waiter vanishes with the menus after refilling their water glasses.

"So, what should we do first when we get to Spain, sweetheart?" Jesse asks.

"Mm," Hanzo hums thoughtfully, "it will be quite late when we arrive, dearest. But I would like to see the _Museo Interactivo de la Musica_."

"Of course," says Jesse, reaching out and intertwining their hands on the tabletop. "We'll visit all the museums you want."

"But what do you want to do, Joel?" Hanzo gazes up at him, amusement hidden behind his soft expression. Jesse can feel his thumb stroking the back of his hand.

"Well, I wouldn't mind spending some quality time with you on a nice, private beach..." Jesse leers theatrically, and beams when Hanzo laughs into his water.

"Newlyweds." Across the aisle, the two older women are looking at them fondly. "Remember when you treated me like that, Maria?"

The other woman gasps, hand to her chest. "After I take you on this nice trip! Ethel, how could you?"

"Thank you for the compliment, ladies, but I've been married to my lovely Akira for nearly four years now." Jesse tells them.

"Ah, that is not so long." Ethel says with a wave of her hand. "When you've been married for forty years, like us, then you will no longer be newlyweds."

"Congratulations," Hanzo says.

"Thank you." Maria smiles at her wife. "We've always wanted to take a trip like this, and now that the kids are all grown up, we finally can."

Jesse and Hanzo make small talk with them until the ladies' food arrives, and then leave them alone. Jesse finds himself imagining what it would be like, to be married to someone for forty years. What it must feel like, to have someone at your side through all of the ups and downs, with children and work and all the little disasters of everyday life. It feels almost unreal – he hasn't even been alive for forty years, for Christ's sake.

He tries to picture himself older; with greying hair and wrinkled skin, sitting opposite his husband. His imagination conjures up a white-haired Hanzo with reading glasses and a fond smile, and something heavy sinks in his stomach. God, he wants that.

"Joel?" Hanzo's quiet voice interrupts his thoughts. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, honeybunch," Jesse says, flashing a grin, "my mind just wandered for a moment there."

Hanzo's eyes are disbelieving, but he doesn't press. "Oh? Thinking up something for your next book?"

"Maybe," says Jesse, taking the out offered, "you know, this train travel is really classic; I think it could make for a great story..."

When their food arrives, Jesse continues rambling about his story idea as they eat. Hanzo says little, simply nodding along as he speaks. The landscape passing by grows darker, and the stars begin to come out.

"Well, we're off to bed," Maria says, slowly rising from her seat. "It was wonderful to meet you boys."

"The pleasure was all ours, ma'am," Jesse says, half-reaching to tip a hat he isn't wearing.

"I wish you two all the best," Ethel says earnestly, leaning forward.

"Thank you." Hanzo says.

"They'll be fine, Ethel," Maria says, taking her by the arm. "Forty years from now they'll be just as in love as they are right now."

"I hope so." Hanzo says, giving Jesse a shy smile. He doesn't reply, too consumed by the fluttering sensation in his chest.

They can't go on like this. Something needs to give.

 

Back in their cabin, Hanzo showers while Jesse works on turning the couch into a bed. It's a simple process, he knows, but his mind keeps wandering.

He needs to tell Hanzo how he feels. He thought he could carry on like this, content himself with friendship for Hanzo's sake. But it hurts, and he's tired of wondering, tired of keeping it secret. He wants to tell the truth. He needs to know.

The bedframe snaps into place, and Jesse busies himself putting on the sheets and pillows. The shower turns off, and soon Hanzo exits the washroom, already dressed in the silk pyjamas he'd insisted on buying earlier that day in Berlin.

"It's all yours," he says, patting his hair with a towel.

"Much obliged," says Jesse, rushing into the washroom before he does something ridiculous, like take Hanzo by the shoulders and kiss him. He has to tell him, if only so he can stop feeling like a moron around him.

While he showers, Jesse plans out how he'll do it. He'll wait till they're back in Gibraltar, where Hanzo has his own space and won't feel pressured to talk to him about it immediately. He'll keep it simple, wait until they're alone, and just say it: _Hanzo, I'm in love with you._

Even thinking about it fills his stomach with butterflies. He can imagine all the ways things could go wrong: Hanzo laughing in his face, Hanzo recoiling in anger or disgust, Hanzo simply leaving and never speaking to him again.

But what if he loves him too?

Jesse pauses in the middle of shampooing his hair. For all his hopeless daydreaming, he's never actually considered the possibility of Hanzo loving him back. That his feelings are unrequited is just something he took for granted from the moment he'd realized what he felt.

Hanzo was angry and grieving and guilty and, quite frankly, a wreck. He'd drunk himself to sleep when he managed to sleep at all, and logged more hours in the training room than anyone other than 76, despite hardly ever being seen. Lúcio had genuinely not realized they'd gained another member until they'd been assigned to the same team.

But, Jesse realizes, switching the water off, that isn't necessarily true anymore. Hanzo _was_ all of those things – emotional and isolated and hurting – but now...

He spends time with the other agents: gaming with Hana, meditating with Genji and Zenyatta, drinking tea with Satya and Ana. He helps design training sims with 76 and Pharah. He'd complimented Lúcio on his latest album. He smiles and laughs and teases and is very much part of Overwatch's family.

And, Jesse thinks, with a sudden burst of hope, he does all of those things with him. Smiles at him and laughs with him and sits up with him on the roof of the Watchpoint, talking about anything and everything that comes to their minds -

Maybe... just maybe, this isn't as hopeless as he'd thought.

He pulls on his sweatpants and, after a moment's hesitation, removes his prosthetic arm. He rolls the shoulder, already feeling some of the accumulated aches begin to dissolve. He bundles his arm in his clothes and exits the washroom.

Hanzo is sitting up in the bed, hair loose around his shoulders, reading something on his tablet. The lights are dimmed, and the starry night sky zips by outside. He looks up at Jesse's entrance and smiles.

All of Jesse's carefully-made plans fly out the window.

“I'm in love with you.”

**Author's Note:**

> :)


End file.
